


it’s no big surprise you turned out this way, when they closed their eyes and prayed you would change

by ocdranboo



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Coming Out, Gen, Panic Attack, Trans Rich Goranski, Transphobia, another entry into the ao3 user transzoemurphy extended universe, anxiety attack, ft. dogs named after food, mentions of suicidal ideation, no squip au, platonic richjake, pre-covid au, so i havent written since august, transphobic parents, vent fic, wheelchair user jake dillinger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27827443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ocdranboo/pseuds/ocdranboo
Summary: rich comes out to his parents as trans. 2017 colourized
Relationships: Rich Goranski & Jake Dillinger, Rich Goranski & Jake Dillinger & Brooke Lohst & Jenna Rolan & Madeline
Comments: 6
Kudos: 9





	it’s no big surprise you turned out this way, when they closed their eyes and prayed you would change

**Author's Note:**

> when rich says the food/water is tasteless he doesn't have covid btw he's just anxious, covid doesn't exist here becuz its in 2017 :') figured id clarify that bc i too now consume all media thru a pandemic lens ;-;
> 
> sorry abt the formatting btw im in a mento health faciwity rn and im doing all this on my phone lol

📆 _19 may 2017, 3:35pm_

rich regretted it. he regretted it all. not all of april 30th, 2017, but god, he wished he could take it back, he wished he could grab the words from the air and shove them back into his lungs, he wished he could have dashed upstairs and snatched the letter from his parents' bed, he wished he'd never opened his stupid mouth.

🕰 _20 days_

📆 _30 april 2017, 5:21pm_

his hands were shaking so hard he wouldn't have been surprised if they'd fallen off. he'd written a quick "please read this when you have the time :)" on the cover of the yellow envelope and he placed it gently on his parents' pillow.

rich stumbled down the stairs and cracked open his fridge, grabbing his open can of watermelon monster and took a huge gulp before putting it down, the can clacking loudly against the countertop.

"god, that was loud," his brother tj mumbled, glancing up from his phone.

"yeah." rich's laugh cracked. "hey, i'm going to a friend's house tonight, remember, so if our parents aren't home by 7 can you feed blueberry?"

"yeah, sure," tj said, glancing around. "where is the bastard, anyway?"

"couch," rich responded. "i think." he'd last seen the poodle on the couch curled up next to his ragged red bird stuffed animal. with that, rich shoved the bathroom door open with his shoulder and locked it, leaning against the countertop and taking as deep a breath as he could.

feeling a sharp pinch in his ribs, rich peeled off his shirt and binder, collapsing against the bathtub and putting his head in his hands. god, this was a bad idea. this was a horrible idea. he could easily just go back upstairs and take it back.

the letter had said everything he'd wanted his parents to know for so many years now. _i am your son, not your daughter. i am not delusional. i am not asking for money, only acceptance, only for you to use the right name, only to be safe. 80% of trans kids kill themselves when their families reject them and i'm already suicidal so please don't reject me. please. please. please_. he'd managed to say it in a way that sounded not overly emotional and nottoo sterile, firm but not aggressive, something he'd not been able to accomplish in previous drafts. he knew this letter was the one, and he wouldn't tell his parents anything if he kept waiting for the "right" time with the "best" letter.

the cold plastic of the goranski's 20-year-old shitty discount bathtub was a shock to him and rich quickly decided he was too cold for that. he flipped off the mirror before pulling on his binder and his black tank top. he sprayed some dry shampoo into his hair and checked the time. 5:57.

on autopilot, he kissed his dog goodbye and got in his car, turning on i wanna get better by bleachers and turning the volume up as high as he could bear. the drive to jenna's house was only a couple minutes, but it was enough time for him to destress about what he'd just done. he was meeting her, jake, brooke, and brooke's friend madeline, who he'd never met before.

when he pulled into jenna's driveway the speakers were blaring non-stop from hamilton and he turned the volume down before turning it off so his future self wouldn't have his ears physically assaulted by soundwaves.

"rich!" he heard his name shouted and turned to see jake in the doorway, holding a cat in one arm and a bag of cheetos in the other. "swaggy, so we're just waiting for brooke, then! come with me."

as he wiped his palms on his cargo pants, rich decided that maybe this could be a good night despite everything.

📆 _30 april 2017, 8:47pm_

this was not going to be a good night.

the gravity of the situation had sunk in and rich felt like he was in the ocean without a life vest and he didn't know how to swim, he'd never learned, and in the metaphor he had learned a bit through therapy but he didn't feel as though he had. the rushing in his ears sounded like wind or rain or the ocean if you listened but he couldn't hear that over the pounding of his heart and the lump in his throat.

why had he done this? this was so fucking stupid. he tried to take deep breaths, but the thoughts continued and his breaths hitched as they stumbled into the lump in his throat. he tried to tune into the conversation, but as he did, it lulled, and he found himself mumbling, "this was so fucking stupid."

"hey, man, you okay?" jake asked.

rich went to give a shaky thumbs-up and a "yeah" but he was frozen. the enormity of what he'd done was overwhelming. why hadn't he just gone up to his parent's room and taken the letter back? he couldn't take it back now. this was irreversible, this was insurmountable. it was out of his hands, both literally and figuratively. his vision was blurry and breaths were hard to get into his lungs.

he shook his head into a hesitant "no" and found himself tearing up. jake rolled over and leaned down to where rich was sitting, wrapping an arm around him. rich felt like he was breathing through molasses.

"it's gonna be okay, man. you're doing great."

the kindness made his heart split nearly in two. his parents had never shown him even a tenth of the love he felt from his friends. he tried to pull himself together even as the act of breathing felt like a stab to the ribs.

"fuck, i'm sorry," he said, getting out of his chair only to be pulled back into a hug.

"it's completely okay," jake said. "do you want to go get a drink?"

"yeah," rich said. as they went inside, he wiped his eyes on the sleeve of the flannel he'd thrown on over his shirt.

"hey, ms. rolan," jake nodded to her as rich chugged a glass of water. god, he'd been thirsty. jenna's dog popcorn (a tiny white dog— though he didn't know what kind as he didn't know any breeds other than poodle) jumped up onto him, resting his front paws on rich's knees.

"hey there, buddy," rich smiled down at the dog. "you're a good boy."

the others had made their way back inside and rich threw up a thumbs-up sign. "the stress of being this cool got to me for a second. i'm good now. wanna, like... listen to music or watch a movie or something?"

there was a mumble of agreement and jenna spoke up. "y'all want to watch aquamarine? cheesy tween girl movie about a mermaid who grows legs?"

"sounds perfect," jake said.

"seconded," brooke said.

"thrived," madeline said.

"and it's unanimous," rich said. he threw up a peace sign. "let's go, gang!"

📆 _30 april 2017, 11:52pm_

"i feel sick," rich said. he paused. "sorry for being a downer and everything. i'm just going through it."

"it's fine, man," jenna said. "have you had water? have some water."

rich took sips of his water as he tried to keep himself in the present. he'd thought his parents would have texted him about it by then. the anxiety was building up and he was fighting like hell to keep it down, to bury it in his chest and smother it until it was nothing.

his first therapist had always had him rank his anxiety on a one to ten scale. right now, rich figured he was checking in at a good 8.5, which, to be fair, was still comparable to the daily 7-8 he'd experienced before starting medication and therapy. this was different, though. he was less used to it, and he was rightfully terrified out of his fucking mind.

he reached into his pocket and pulled out a squished mini almond joy and forced himself to choke it down, the candy he usually loved tasteless to his mouth tonight but necessary to keep his body running.

he sipped some more water. this, too, had no taste but copper. he thought back to his first therapy sessions, when he and his therapist had been talking about ways to prevent anxiety attacks, or calm them once they'd started. they'd talked a lot about mindfulness and noticing his emotions. rich had done that and the consensus had been that he felt bad. the next thing he thought of was temperature. splashing water in your face was a big one, but rich didn't feel like doing it. it was kind of cold out, though, and going on a walk was another coping skill...

"do you guys wanna go on a walk and get monster or something? or candy?" he asked.

the others looked at each other. madeline shrugged. "I'm down."

"yeah," jenna said. "we can bring my dog popcorn, too."

"sounds good." jake said.

"we've got a unanimous vote, then?" brooke asked, nodding. "sounds fun."

rich pulled on the hoodie he'd taken off during the movie, already feeling calmer wearing the familiar fabric.

jenna got her dog ready to go as the others pulled on their shoes and five minutes later the five of them were on their way to the store to make unnecessary purchases in the spirit of spontaneity.

📆 _1 may 2017, 3:14am_

jake and rich had gone home and watched a few episodes of _friends_ while rich re-dyed the red streak in his hair, with help from jake for most of it. so more accurately, jake dyed rich's hair and they had friends running in the background.

rich had still not received a text or a call. he'd changed into his pajamas, red flannel pants and a shirt from when his middle school performed cinderella back in 2013. he'd put a towel over the pillow jake had let him borrow and tucked himself into the blankets on the twin-size mattress in jake's guest room. jake had insisted on taking the couch to be polite, and rich accepted it, knowing he'd get nowhere changing jake's mind.

rich had turned the main lights off but left a lamp on, knowing jake's fear of the dark and the fact that he probably wouldn't sleep anyway.

"hey, rich?" jake asked. his voice floated softly through the cold night air.

"yeah?"

"can i ask something personal?"

"hit me with it."

"do you love your parents?"

rich didn't have to think about it, but he pretended to anyway. "not really. they've put me through too much."

"i get that," he said.

"do you? love your parents?"

"nah," jake said. "i haven't even seen them in months. i can't love people who don't talk to me or take care of me, you know?"

"yeah," rich said. "our parents suck, huh?"

"for real." jake sighed. "do you want me to put on the sleep playlist?"

"yeah, that'd be good."

he heard he clicking of a phone being opened and a second later the first notes of as the world caves in by matt maltese.

"did you know that this song is about—"

"rich," jake said. "yes. i do not want to hear about it."

rich snorted. "that's fair. hey, if i'm not up, wake me up at nine, okay? literally hit me."

"okay," jake said. "wake me up too, if you're first."

"don't let me sleep. i'll sleep all day, and unfortunately i've got to go home at some point."

"yeah, man," jake said. "i'm sorry you've got to go through all this."

"yeah," rich sighed. "i'm sorry too."

📆 _1 may 2017, 8:31am_

rich rubbed his eyes and rolled over, noting the dreariness of the clouds. he didn't believe in omens, but not-quite-rain, not-quite-sun weather always brought bad news with it, in his experience.

the first thing he did was check his phone. the only notification was a comment from a mutual on his tiktok, nothing from his parents.

he glanced over to the couch, where jake was curled up into a tiny ball, far smaller than rich could've imagined the tall dude would. before he'd fallen asleep, jake had put his wheelchair next to the couch, but either he'd forgotten to put the brakes down or he'd pushed it in his sleep, because it had rolled further away. rich moved it back to where it'd been before grabbing his jeans, hoodie, and binder, and making his way into the bathroom, where he pulled his clothes on and went to wake jake.

"jake," he said. "jake."

jake stirred a bit.

"jake. jake. jake. jake."

"hi, rich," jake mumbled,sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "g'morning."

"good morning," rich said.

"any news?"

"nope," rich sighed. "d'you wanna hang out for a while before i have to go home?"

"yeah, man," jake said. "wanna drive around for a while, get starbucks?"

"sounds good."

"coolio. i'm gonna get dressed 'n' shit, m'kay?"

"m'kay."

jake pulled himself into his wheelchair and rolled away. rich threw his legs over the side of the bed and stared down at his phone. 8:42 stared back at him, unblinking. he opened tiktok and scrolled aimlessly through the videos, liking his mutual's comment on his video. 8:45 stared back at him when he closed the app and he turned towards the telltale sound of jake's wheelchair.

"hey, comrade," rich greeted his friend.

"hey," jake said.

"starbucks time?"

"hell yeah, man."

📆 _1 may 2017, 11:02am_

rich half-expected to be assaulted with a barrage of questions or insults the second he opened the door, but that didn't happen. instead, he was greeted with the silence of an empty house.

he checked the driveway to see there was no car there. his parents must be at bible study, then. it was saturday, after all. how had he forgotten? god, he was out of it.

despite the empty house, he walked up to his room as quietly as possible, flinching at the creaking of a floorboard.he collapsed into his bed and he couldn't decide if the weight in his chest was emptiness or pain, but either way, he opened his phone to tiktok to waste his time as much as possible.

📆 _2 may 2017, 2:14pm_

fucking nothing. that's what he'd heard from his parents. he'd poured his heart out and done everything he could to make them understand and heard nothing back. rich was ready to scream. he didn't have to go to church this week, as the pastor had come down with an illness and nobody was prepared to take his spot, but he would still have to go to youth group later. he felt sick to his stomach. maybe he would feel sick for the rest of his life.

📆 _2 may 2017, 9:22pm_

rich's phone dinged and seeing his father's name on the notification made him want to jump out his window and move into the middle of the woods to live life like an overly anxious monkey. taking several breaths, he clicked on the notification and read it.

addressed to his dead name, the message read,

_We are still processing your letter. It is quite a shock. Right now, we want to make sure you know we don't reject you. You are our daughter, we won't disown you or anything like that._

did his parents know how to fucking read? literally, did those assholes have two functioning eyes? rich had made it abundantly clear what he needed: acceptance. recognize that i'm your son, he'd practically begged. say my name.

his parents had gone against all of that. reading his dead name was like a punch in the gut. reading they "don't reject" rich was even worse. this was as clear of a rejection as he needed.

with shaking hands, rich typed out but this is a rejection. it's a rejection of the person i need to be.

no response. no three typing bubbles. just silence.

_📆 19 may 2017, 3:14pm_

three weeks of radio silence and rich was going insane. the only change had been his father calling him "she" about 20 times more often. rich was beyond tempted to punch him in the face.

his parents were gone, and the ipad was sitting on the living room table, unlocked, next to an empty bottle of vodka.

his father was practically asking for it. with shaking hands, rich picked up the ipad and went into messages, clicking on his father's conversation with his mother and scrolling up to april 30th.

📆 _19 may 2017, 3:29pm_

rich wished he had not read anything at all. in fact, he wished he did not have eyes.

the whole fucking conversation had been his parents misgendering him, his parents talking about how "god" would "cure" him, his parents trading transphobic christian news articles, and his parents outing him to his brother tj; with a spicy addition of them talking about how if he began to transition they'd take him off their health insurance and that he wasn't getting the money that his grandmother had set aside for either his 18th or 20th birthday. they called him delusional. they said if he wanted to "mutilate his body" he'd have to "grow up" first. he was turning 18 in a month, if he didn't have the life skills they considered necessary to be "grown-up," that was their fucking fault. his parents spent their time online mocking him, even his mother, who had not addressed him since the letter, an outcome he'd assumed was the best it could be. no, she was just mocking him behind his back, worse than his father had.

he'd begged for them to accept him. he'd begged not to be called delusional, he'd begged for them to address him as their son. they didn't even do the bare minimum.

rich had considered going no-contact with his parents since it occurred to him as an option. this was the last straw, the wax on the envelope. this was his breaking point. he'd poured his heart out to his parents, begging for just a little bit of respect, and they didn't even give him that.

coming out was the worst decision he'd made in the past five years. he regretted it with every bone in his body. he wished he could take it back, he wished he could grab the words from the air and shove them back into his lungs, he wished he'd stayed choking on the lies he'd told to keep himself safe until he'd managed to escape to college. he wished he'd dashed upstairs before he left and taken the letter off his parent's pillow. he wished he'd driven back from the party before his parents got home and taken the letter and burned it in the fire. he wished he hadn't said anything at all. he wished he'd never opened his stupid mouth.

**Author's Note:**

> itz a-me... depressio...  
> my tumblr n tiktok r transzoemurphy if u? want to see more of me sksjsj


End file.
